


His Majesty is Busy

by morrezela



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Duty, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24603355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: Noctis was magically revived after the original ending of the game. His relationship with Ignis is strained because it's what duty demands.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 3
Kudos: 62
Collections: The Ignoct Indoor Gift Exchange





	His Majesty is Busy

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a pinch-hit for his-pair-of-spare-glasses for The Ignoct Indoor Gift Exchange.

“His Majesty is busy, perhaps you’d care to reschedule?” Ignis’s voice was as calm and level as it ever was when they were younger, but something still felt off about it. Colder or maybe harder? Noctis wasn’t sure. He wasn’t even sure if he was imagining it. 

Ignis was a full decade older now. It could just be age in his voice. Or it could be that Noctis was projecting his own feelings onto him. The main one being that he shouldn’t even be alive. He was supposed to die in that fight with Ardyn. There was no epilogue planned for his life story, just an afterlife and whatever that entailed. 

He still wasn’t sure what had happened. He remembered killing Ardyn, ending his suffering. Destroying the darkness as foretold, and falling into what felt like a million pieces. 

And then waking up to the sight of Prompto ugly crying and kicking some piece of debris on the ground. Gladio had been a little way to his left, glaring at the sunrise like it was personally offending him. Ignis had been sitting next to him, face blank, exhaustion filling every line of his body. 

That exhaustion hadn’t left him, either. First it had been the vigil he’d kept when Noctis had been recovering. Doting seemed to be too small a word to describe it. Ignis had been almost consumed with fulfilling all his wants or desires. It would’ve been smothering from anyone else. But Ignis had always known exactly where the line was when it came to their relationship – even when Noctis wished he didn’t. 

When he grew better, Ignis’s fussing turned into perfect, rigid manners. It should’ve been a relief. Noctis even tried telling himself he was grateful for the reprieve. But the truth was that he hated it. The formality that Ignis displayed towards him was almost unbearable. It was like the word “king” had replaced Noctis’s name in his mind. 

The sharp click of Ignis’s stride sounded in the hallway. Noctis wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t heard Iggy admonish anyone for the last few minutes, so that meant he’d finished rescheduling all of the court hearings for the day. Of course he’d return to inform his king that he’d finished his assigned task. He’d never be derelict in his duties. 

Noctis didn’t bother wiping the unhappy scowl off his face when Ignis entered the room. It wasn’t like he could see it anyway thanks to the results of what his unwavering loyalty had driven him to do. And it felt good to have a reaction to the picture-perfect bow Ignis offered as soon as he reached him.

“I have rescheduled all of your appointments as requested,” the carefully neutral Ignis voice reported. He seemed to hesitate before continuing with, “Are you feeling any better?”

“Not really.” Even to his own ears, Noctis sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. He was pathetic. It wasn’t as if he was lying. His body still had assorted aches and pains from his second near-death experience. But it wasn’t anything that he couldn’t power through. Even his sour mood about Ignis wasn’t too terrible a burden to bear. But all the inane proposals? Those he couldn’t stomach. Being an alive king instead of a heroically dead prince brought certain expectations though, and they involved things he’d rather not think about. 

Before him, Ignis held his breath a bit and shifted before going back to his attentive stance. 

“What?” Noctis snapped, losing ground to the general irritation he felt with life. 

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I think I know what you look like when you want to say something but think you shouldn’t.”

“It is as you say. I do not believe I should voice my opinion, so I shan’t.” 

Noctis could practically feel the aborted, “Your Majesty,” at the end of Ignis’s sentence. Even unsaid, it pushed his irritation closer to anger. “I could order you,” he threatened. 

“Even the king cannot order one’s private thought to become public.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to speak for you, huh? You think that I’m being childish. You think that I came back wrong. You think that I shouldn’t be alive right now, and that you’d be better off if you didn’t have to babysit me.” 

Even behind his glasses and the skin that didn’t move right anymore, Noctis could see the anguish his words put on Ignis’s face. He felt a vicious stab of satisfaction for it before the guilt flooded in. He knew that wasn’t what Ignis thought at all. 

Ignis took a steadying breath. Then another before settling back into his best servant of the king persona. “You should take something for the pain.”

“It’s not the pain bugging me, Iggy.”

“Believe it or not, I am more than aware of that. Still, you’ll be in a better mood if you’re not in pain.” Not waiting for a response, Ignis moved around the room, stride almost hiding the fact that his hand reached out to guide him.

“I don’t need them,” Noctis objected even as Ignis counted out pills into the palm of his hand. 

“Yes, well, I am in desperate need for you to take them lest I commit regicide.” Ignis bit at him, the hurt he’d hid on his face coming out in his words. “Aside from which, all those meetings I cancelled will still need to be held in the coming days. You need to be rested and well for them. Sleep that doesn’t come today will be paid for tomorrow.”

Noctis snorted in derision, but he relented and took his medication. “You’d think a decade apart would’ve made you lighten up on the guilt trips.” 

“And why would I do that when it’s the only thing that ever works on you?” The twisted smile that accompanied Ignis’s words was the first one that he’d cracked in days, weeks maybe. It reminded Noctis that there was at least one other thing that would work on him, but he pushed the thought away as hard as he could. That was something he couldn’t ask of Ignis. 

More importantly, it was something he shouldn’t ask. They had duties to perform that wouldn’t go away just because Noctis wished it so. He’d learned that lesson the hard way, hadn’t he? And he’d already taken too much from Ignis. Was still taking too much from him. What else was he going to demand from the man who had set himself aflame on his behalf? 

“You should rest,” Ignis said as he was already curling his fingers around Noctis’s forearm to urge him up out of his chair. Not by his hand or even his wrist. That would be too close to impropriety. “I’ll escort you to your chambers.”

“You mean you’re coming with to make sure I do as I’m told.”

“If you prefer. I wasn’t going to put so fine a point on it.” 

“What if I’m not tired?” Noctis complained even as Ignis dragged him out into the lesser used hallways. 

“If you’re not tired, then maybe you really were brought back wrong.” The words fell short of teasing. They’re just bitter enough to know that Noctis’s earlier barb was still stuck in Ignis’s skin. No doubt he was feeling the same unease at the state of their relationship as Noctis was. 

Starting a fight in a public space, even one so empty as those leading to the living quarters of the Citadel, would be unwise. There were always people willing to eavesdrop. Hadn’t that been what Noctis was just doing?

Being quiet held its own unhappy charms though. No matter how hard he tried not to think about it, the place Ignis was leading him to was not one he considered his. They were his father’s rooms. Even though most of the furnishings had been changed out, he had a difficult time feeling like he should be staying in them as anything but a guest. 

“You just need time,” had been what both Prompto and Gladio had said. 

Ignis hadn’t offered any such platitudes. “This is the king’s suite,” had been his response. Simple, but he’d trusted Noctis to know why it was important. They were the safest rooms in the Citadel. It meant something to the people to see their ruler occupy them. It was Noctis’s responsibility to take them over and make them his. 

In his heart, he knew Ignis was right. Not even Gladio knew duty like Iggy did. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. 

“Stay with me,” Noctis said as he pushed the door open. He didn’t mean for it to come out like a command, but it did. 

Ignis inclined is head just a bit as he stepped in after him. An acknowledgement of the order or perhaps just plain acquiescence. Who could tell with Ignis nowadays? 

He watched as Ignis made his way towards the overly sumptuous couch that had seemingly appeared out of thin air. Noctis hadn’t asked where it had come from, but he’d suspected that Ignis was at the source of it. Prompto couldn’t tell quality if it hit him in the face, and it wasn’t Gladio’s style. Anyone else would’ve triple checked to make sure they had their king’s permission to so much as suggest a new piece of furniture. 

“Where’d you get the couch?” he found himself asking just as Ignis began to sit down. The question must have caught him off guard because instead of his oh so proper perch, he fell into the cushions. 

“Raided a high-end furniture store. Found it rather safely tucked away in a back room that hadn’t seen too much damage. I had a member of the guard look it over for me to make sure it wasn’t too hideous a color. Wouldn’t want any… guests you might have to be deterred by your poor taste.”

The sight of him, reclined if not relaxed, made the room feel more like home than it had for years. It tugged at some broken thing in Noctis. Why did this have to be denied him? Why did he have to sacrifice every last thing for Lucis only to get some scrap of friendship when he couldn’t live without more? 

Maybe he wasn’t as selfless and grownup as he thought. Because the thought of losing more and more of Ignis to duty was unbearable. Not when there was a picture of what he truly wanted right in front of him. 

“I don’t want ‘guests’ over, Iggy.” Noctis said as he sat down on the sofa next to him. There was room enough that he didn’t need to be so close, but despite what he’d said earlier, he was tired. It just wasn’t lack of sleep causing it. 

He could feel Ignis stiffen beside him. “It is your duty as king to…”

“Yeah. I get it,” Noctis cut him off. “For being king, you sure do have a big list of rules I have to follow.”

A mirthless chuckle rumbled around in Ignis’s chest. “The aristocracy isn’t what it once was.”

“Maybe that means we should change it some more then,” Noctis suggested. 

“There are somethings you cannot change, Noct,” the words were gentle, kind. 

Despite himself, Noctis smiled at his nickname finally coming out of Ignis’s mouth for the first time in what felt like forever. “I don’t know about that. I changed the whole world. Seems like I’m good at the impossible.”

“Not this,” Ignis replied with the kind of certainty that made Noctis’s own heart ache. 

“Why not? Are you going to tell me that you don’t love me? That you’re not in love with me?” 

The sharp intake of breath that came from the man sitting next to him was followed quickly by words that seemed to tumble out of his mouth. “Don’t say that. Don’t… I can’t… I’m not…”

“Yeah. That’d be a lot easier to believe before you got these,” Noctis emphasized his words as he traced his finger along one of the silvery scars that his forebears had left on Ignis’s skin. He couldn’t see much of it, just the little of it that showed in the gap between Ignis’s glove and jacket. 

A larger hand covered his a second later, stilling it. “That was my honor. I need no accolades for it.”

“So, you think that my affections are accolades now?” 

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s what you said though,” Noctis said in lieu of pointing out that Ignis had neither removed his hand nor Noctis’s hand from his arm. 

“Who taught you to twist words to your liking so easily?” Ignis grumbled. 

“My father. And there was this one other guy too. Self-sacrificial, kind of uptight, really good-looking face though.”

Ignis’s laugh was an embarrassed one given the flush that stole over his cheeks. “Is that your idea of a compliment?”

“I like the new hairstyle too,” Noctis offered. “Wasn’t a huge fan of the whole spiked front thing. Pompadour is definitely an improvement.”

Ignis elbowed him, but without any malice. The action finally dislodged both their hands. “That is still not a compliment.”

“Okay. Fine. How about, I like the new hairstyle. But I’d love to see what it looks like when it’s all messed up in the morning?” 

The mirth dropped from Ignis’s face. “That’s lust, not a compliment.”

“No. Lust is saying, ‘I want to put my hands in your hair while you suck my dick,’” Noctis argued. “Come on, Iggy. You know me better than to think this is just lust or convenience. And I know you better than to think you’d be objecting this much if it were.”

“You’re right,” Ignis conceded. “But, for the record, this is a terrible idea. It is going to upend what little political balance we’ve achieved. And as your advisor I must object to the entire notion of this dalliance.” 

“Consider your objection noted and ignored.”

“You needn’t be so flippant,” Ignis admonished. “This is serious.” 

“I know,” Noctis assured him. “I know. It’s just… I happen to know this guy, he’s pretty smart. Loyal to a fault. I’m sure he’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.”

“Will he now?” 

“Yeah. You might need to be jealous though, because I hear he’s in love with me.”

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard of the fellow. Terrible taste in men. Declining job performance as well,” Ignis tacked on ruefully.

“Ignis,” Noctis chided him with his own name. “Stop borrowing trouble before it starts. That’s for those sycophantic morons that keep trotting into my throne room to do.”

“I have to worry, it’s my job.”

“Well then go back to worrying about me not getting enough sleep. And then come tuck me into bed,” Noctis suggested with just enough innocence to keep from sounding lascivious. 

“You’re terrible,” Ignis huffed out. 

“No, I’m the king.”


End file.
